Recent Things
by SevenRenny
Summary: They were pressed shoulder to shoulder, knees drawn in. Izuku's bag was over both of their laps like an awkward, heavy blanket. Rainwater over the dome casted a shadow of slithering snakes over them as water dribbled down the sides. Everything about this was uncomfortable. Except, maybe the inside of this damp shelter turned out better than the madness of the outside world. IzuOcha


_Time set changes: Before the beginning if the series. The sludge villain incident never happened_

 _Warnings: Deals with themes of bullying, depression and suicide; other warnings could not be added due to spoilers, stress writing, experimental writing_

 **Recent Things**

 **SevenRenny**

She was never one to gaze at pictures. She was no photographer nor was she an artist. Aside from that wrinkled family picture she had at home, and that group class photo she's taken to remember her friends from her past school, and probably a few pictures on her phone she'd forgotten about, Ochaco wasn't one to look back at old times. Time just… came and went. She probably didn't understand these types of things like other people. She was one to live the moment and hope for the future.

Getting into UA was, in a way, a dream too good to be true. She had to try, though. She couldn't give up before giving it a go. UA was only one part of the journey; she had to keep in mind. She'd have to do her best if she wanted to reach that high basket goal. It was all or nothing. She was not ready to lose this. Not yet. Not when the goal involved her parents. She was fine with drowning in her own mistakes. She just wasn't okay with dragging her parents down with her.

Moving to a new area and starting school there had resulted in a major problem: she was lonely. Ochaco wouldn't call herself a shy person. She was usually the one starting conversations, and being so social, it didn't take her long to get used to her class and the format of her school. She figured out friends from acquaintances and which kids to stay away from. Anyone else was simply _'that person'_ who sat at _'that desk'_ , because their faces passed by every now and then but their names were never said aloud enough times for her to remember them. It was fine. She could ask later. She had other things to focus on. She hadn't told anyone here about her plans for UA. She'd informed her friends from her past school and regretted it a day after. What if she failed UA's entrance exam? She'd let down her friends, her parents – herself.

Maybe she should stop informing her loved ones of her goals? Just for now.

" _Transfer student?"_

"– _did ya hear?"_

" _I hope it's a girl!"_

"Alright, alright, quiet down," their teacher, a three eyed chubby man with the voice of a chain-smoker, said tiredly. "I know you're all excited, but please give him space, alright? It's still class. You can talk and make friends later."

The transfer wasn't a girl, much to the disappointment of the kid in the back. He was also timid, messing with his bandaged thumbs the whole time he introduced himself. He stumbled over his words, stammered, swallowed some back and looked like he wished his shadow would hug him, blanket him from all the eyes he knew nothing of.

 _Izuku Midoriya – that name, she could remember._

No one bothered him after class. He was always working on his notebook of his, she noticed. He'd have it beneath his subject books, open and ready, occasionally adding a letter, a scribble, a note in a messy circle, whenever he had the chance. He was mostly quiet, if not touched or disturbed. He was jumpy, behaving more like a wild rabbit, afraid of anything and everything. Sudden noises – even just skidding desks across floors, frightened him. Touch his shoulder to ask for a pen and he'd look back with that submissive, pleading look on his face. He was like a dam, something in the background, holding it together, unless there was a breach – then everything would come pouring out.

Other than being academically clever, he didn't stand out, at all. He seemed to drown in the sea of unique students. He was plain, quiet, and failed to make any sort of lasting impressions. Everyone had already formed friendly groups before he'd transferred, so he was that late student, already behind the rest of his classmates.

That wasn't right. It wasn't right to leave him like that. If no one else wanted him, maybe she should step in? Yeah! She should! Ochaco just wasn't sure how to approach someone she knew almost nothing of.

She managed to take a peek at his notebook between classes. She couldn't help her own accident when she saw a sketch of a familiar Hero with lots of scribbled text all around. Her gasp of delight must've frightened him, because his relaxed posture was replaced by frantic efforts to hide the page with his arms. His cheeks turned pink for an unknown reason.

Did he think she'd assume his hobby was uncool? Well, he had another thing coming!

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that. I just saw Thirteen there and they are one of my favorite Heroes. I'm a big fan!"

His shoulders relaxed and he slowly looked up at her, perplexed "R…Really…?"

"Yeah! That looks so cool."

He blushed and gave a soft, wobbly smile at her complement and, with slight hesitation, pulled his arms away and revealed the page to let her see. He was a Hero nerd. A smart one, too. He had a great passion for Heroism – and was probably obsessed by this subject. He'd filled every page with information and had managed to squeeze added notes into the tiniest spaces.

"These are amazing," she said with wonder.

Izuku twiddled with his fingers nervously, unsure how to respond to complements directed at his nerdy work. "Th – Thanks… I ahh… It's kind of my hobby…"

"You really like Heroes, huh?" she teased playfully, flipping through the pages with care.

He gave a shy nod. "Huh. I think they're really cool… Always admired them since I was little."

"That's so cute. Oh! What's all… this…?" Ochaco stopped turning the pages when she landed on side-by-side pages that were abused by thick marker scribbles and crud doodles over his normal analysis notes and sketches. Those were of different hand writing and pens, inflicted by multiple people – doodles of stick figures with _Deku_ written over them, a drawing of either ice cream or poo – most likely the later, and a few rounds of ticktacktoe were scattered over the pages. It was hard to see the sketch of Snipe beneath all the mess.

"Ah – that's nothing! Just skip that," Izuku frantically waved his hands inches from the page, not sure if grabbing his notebook now would seem disrespectful, but also not wanting her to be exposed to the profanities scattered about those two pages.

"Oh, sorry!" she gasped and flipped back to hide the pages. "Sorry, guess I wasn't supposed to see that," she said, rubbing the back of her head, hoping she hadn't embarrassed him.

He sighed, relieved she'd backed away. "I thought this was in front. It's not your fault." He'd brushed it off, just like that.

Or maybe he didn't want to confront the topic. She wouldn't blame him. She was sure those papers wouldn't leave her mind for the rest of the day.

"My name's Ochaco Uraraka, by the way," she told him happily.

He looked confused as to way she was introducing herself to him. They were classmate and he'd heard her name being called out a few times already. "Uh – … oh, I – Ah… I'm Izuku Midoriya."

 _Izuku Midoriya. She remembered._

…

She found herself always gravitating to him during P. E. and pair up lessons in other classes. At first, it had been because every other person had a best friend to partner with and the two would be left out, then it was because Izuku was respectful, sweet and easy to get along with. She wasn't sure when, but pairing up with him became a regular, almost expected thing.

He was still a timid boy, nervous and unsure, but smiling more. It was nice to hear his voice. He didn't talk much, but when he did, he had meaningful things to say. It was like he didn't want to bother her with wasteful words; even though she was completely fine with words without meaning. She wasn't sure how to tell him it was okay to say whatever was on his mind, to add unnecessary comments here and there. It wouldn't backfire on his face – she would let any mistake slide.

"Hey, Midoriya!" she waved for him, her backpack jiggled as she jogged to reach him. "Wanna walk home together?" she asked with excitement.

He looked so stunned at. "…Oh, okay. Umm… Do you take the train?" he asked nervously.

"Yup!"

"I'll walk you there then."

He probably wondered why she bothered with him when there were better students around she could hang out with.

 _He was such a silly boy sometimes._

"Oh, uhh – there's… do you have time? I mean… so I can show you something?" He'd asked her during their walk, his voice wavering, unsure. She'd guessed he'd been trying to figure out how to speak to her for the whole walk. "There's this playground we'll pass by. It's always empty, but I like going there to take a look…"

She now knew why he would stop here. The empty playground was Hero themed. The jungle gym (made to look like roots) had a model of Kamui Woods sitting on top. The stands of the swing set had yellow and black caution lines along with upside-down _DEATH ARMS_ written on the swing seats. The sandbox wasn't anything special, but did have buckets next to the toy tractor had the words _SNATCH._ The lined up spring rides were a cute leopard seal with blush marks on his cheeks, the other, Backdraft's fire truck; the spring of this one bent and unusable. There was also a structure that resembled a replica of Power Loader's costume. The All Might slide had steps at front, and a banana curved cape at the back.

Of course the Hero nerd would know about this place.

"I pass through here sometimes when I walk home," he said, brushing his hand over the seat of one of the springs. "I'm not sure why I like it here. It's kind of childish, huh?"

Ochaco shook her head no in a vigorous manner. "Not at all! I think it's really cool."

 _Because there was no better place like home, even if that home was a lonely playground. She understood now. All of it._

"There's one I wanted to show you…. if you're not in a hurry. I thought you might like it."

 _And she liked it. She remembered. It was her favorite._

A Thirteen playhouse: with steps and an entrance on the back, and a tunnel slide that started from inside the space suit, through the arm, and ended at an opening at the tip of the gloved finger.

"Where was this when I was a kid?" Ochaco inspected it up and down, amazed at the creation. It was taller than the average kiddie playhouse and her curiosity to see inside won her over.

Slipping off her backpack and plopping it down, she started climbing the back steps that led to the opening through Thirteen's grey backpack. This was different from the wooden playhouse she used to play in. It had been a cheaper one without a roof, and her dad wasn't here to encourage her down the slide. Still, it was nice to see enjoy things while she had them. Inside this Thirteen themed playhouse was dark, but she did notice the details on the roof, or the inside of Thirteen's space helmet, in this case.

It was slightly purple, glittery and had a few tiny stars. It was also, sadly, quite dirty. The top wasn't a place usually touched by children. It had collected a layer of dirt and bird droppings over time.

She heard metallic clunking outside and felt the structure vibrate every time before Izuku's head popped up.

"This looks amazing!"

"Yeah. I started coming here often," he said. There wasn't much room for him with her still inside, so he sat on the edge with his feet dangling over the steps.

"Why's there no one here? This place is so cool," she said, sitting on her knees and lightly touching the roof with her fingertips.

"They usually come by a few hours later. I just leave by then."

Usually. He knew the schedule. "Did you play here when you were little?"

He looked down and fumbled with his thumbs. "No. There's this other playground closer to where I live. I used to have fun with friends there…" he explained. "I'm not sure why I prefer here, to be honest."

Ochaco sat down on her knees and hummed to let him know she acknowledged his words. "Do you miss your friends?"

"Hmm? From back then?" Izuku rubbed the back of his head as he though it over. "… I… don't know? Ah – I did go to the same schools with them later… but… we just… stopped being friends after some time? I'm not sure…"

Well, that was an awkward direction to turn the conversation. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that!"

He chuckled lightly. "It's fine – It's fine." He looked up at the dark purple roof which made the bright blue sky look like outer space, pulling a leg up and having his foot press against the side of the entrance. "I know do miss how it used to be, now that I think about it. I don't if that's a bad thing. I know I can't go back, and… I don't know how to fix things." He looked at her sadly and managed to give her a sweet, hopeful smile. "No use thinking about the past. All we have is now, right?"

Move forward. Okay, she liked that attitude. "Right!"

Outside the Thirteen playhouse structure, a black and blue butterfly landed on the yellow backpack that leaned against the pink one.

By the time she turned to use the tunnel slide, she had to tuck in her black school skirt as to not have to flip up. Izuku was observant enough to notice her holding her skirt before she'd disappeared into the tube and had called to make sure she'd made it out the other side before he could risk sliding down.

…

They'd visit the playground after school regularly and did homework there. He didn't hide his _nerd stuff_ from her anymore, she'd noticed. He'd bring out his Hero notebook and fill it out in front of her now, and he used that pen with that silly All Might head on top. He was a good tutor, teaching her things she didn't understand, but occasionally went off on a mumbling rant whenever he thought of an equation aloud.

At school, if she wasn't talking with him, he wasn't with anyone else. She got around just fine, especially around the other female students. She was social like that. But him… she figured he was only social with special individuals – a selected few he'd let seep into his protective bubble. If she could just get him more familiarized with the friendlier students… maybe then they'd see how sweet and kind he really was.

But of course that had to be someone in class with bad intentions.

"How'd you break your thumbs?" that one kid with the X pupils in her eyes asked rather loudly in class.

The teacher was late, so it wasn't unusual to see everyone out of their seats and talking with one another. However, Ochaco wasn't sure X-eyes and Izuku knew each other too well, and Izuku seemed uncomfortable with the other student leaning over his desk and into his personal space.

"My… My thumbs? I … I – I was clumsy. Had an accident carrying stuff…" Izuku hid his hands between his thighs and his shoulders slumped shamefully. He hadn't had time to think of a better answer under pressure.

The student with the X-eyes hummed and tilted her head to the side. "Both of them?"

"…yeah…" His mouth was a forced, thin line, it looked painfully awkward.

Ochaco had noticed his bandaged thumbs, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't curious, still, she would've gone with 'are your thumbs okay?' than 'how did you break them?' Additionally, she felt slightly defensive over how someone would disrespect Izuku's personal space in such a manner. It was as if the whole world revolved around them, and Izuku was just a prop.

"Hey, what's your Quirk?" the kid asked that one, specific question.

It was like asking for someone's age, nothing unusual; maybe weird to some of asked out of the blue.

Under pressure, Izuku was struggling to give her an answer.

"My – I… I don't…"

"Mine is X-ray. What's yours?" She tried again, adding her own answer to force him into an exchange.

 _She wished she'd interfered sooner._

"I… don't have one…" he'd whispered it.

The girl didn't respect his wish not to be heard, or hadn't picked up on it. "You're Quirkless," she concluded aloud, as if confirming a suspicion she'd had for some time.

Quirkless. That taboo word drew in a few more eyes. _"Quirkless? Like, he really doesn't have anything? That's kind of boring."_

Quirkless. She remembered her Papa telling her to never judge a person over an extra toe joint. Once upon a time, everyone used to be Quirkless. If her classmates were about to shame a wonderful person like Izuku over something so ridiculous, they had another thing coming.

"Hey, you leave him alone!" she ordered. It was too bad she couldn't sound threatening when she needed to be. To her horror, one other kid had snatched Izuku's notebook.

"Gi – Give that back, please!" Izuku whimpered.

"Hero analysis for the future?" the kid read the cover aloud.

"Please don't read that," Izuku begged. To his relief, the kid returned his notebook.

"You want to be a Hero?" the same kid asked lamely, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Izuku hugged the notebook to his chest. "…kind off."

"Even when you're Quirkless?"

Ochaco made it in between the kid and Izuku. "So? He can be whatever he wants to be."

"Bummer. Well, good luck with that, I guess."

Ochaco was glad this boy turned away. Now, if only the other girl would just–

"Which school are you applying for? Cause a lot don't let Quirkless apply for Heroics. Just saying."

She was completely ignoring Ochaco and going straight for what interested her. Before Ochaco could say anything, some other girl in the middle desk decided to she had something to say.

" _Can you be quiet? Seriously, you're just being annoying now."_

"Well I wasn't talking to you."

" _Your voice is everywhere. You might wanna try lowering it. I'm trying to read."_

Someone else (a boy sitting on his desk at front) chuckled and added his own thoughts. "You want everyone to hear but no one gives a crap. Damn, that backfired real hard on ya, eh?"

The X-ray student took offence. "Oh shut it, you."

The teacher's arrival prevented any more arguments. Ochaco was left feeling as useless as ever.

…

"I'm sorry. I couldn't say anything else back there." With her pink backpack on, Ochaco apologized to him after class, looking down in shame.

 _I should've done more. I'm so sorry!_

"Oh – it's okay! I'm fine!" He assured her quickly. "And… thank you for helping me… I really appreciate it."

"I think Taro and Daichi did a lot more than me," she said, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "You know, you can tell a teacher if anyone keeps bullying you."

"It's fine, really. There's no need." He picked up his backpack and slipped it on. "I don't want to transfer again," he added quietly. "My old school didn't want me. They never listened to my mom's complaints. If…" His voice was nothing more than a whisper. "If no one wants me here, too… then where should I go?"

"I want you, silly!" she said insisted angrily. Grabbing his sleeve and gave it a tag, "who care what schools think?" She started pulling him along. "Forget about them. Wanna go somewhere better?"

 _I should've tried harder for you. I'm sorry._

While being pulled, Izuku had an emotional tear slide down his cheek. He rubbed it off with his shoulder before anyone could ask why he was crying. "Yeah..."

…

He'd used moist wipes and a bottle of water to clean the dome shaped roof, using a roller to scrape off the hardened bird excrements. While he cleaned, Ochaco's face popped up beneath him from under the dome of the inner playhouse.

He chuckled. "How does it look?"

She smiled. "I can see better!"

Letting the rolled up wipes fall to the ground, Izuku climbed his way down, dusted off his school uniform right after and collected the bottle and wipe into his backpack on the ground. He heard Ochaco shift inside the structure and exit through the slide.

She'd hoped visiting this spot would cheer him up. It had, a bit. He still refused to sit down and write in his notebook like he used to. Something about the air he breathed out appeared more tired and heavy with memories the weight of centuries. That coy, polite smile had cracks. He'd attempt to speak, and his vocal cords would fail him, so all his sentences started out with raspy nothings before he'd embarrassingly correct himself. His mind was scattered, she concluded. She also concluded he needed to concentrate _hard_ in order to communicate with her. That; or his inner person had pulled up defenses after the encounter with the earlier students and was too paranoid to let loose. What a sorry excuse of a friend, she was.

 _She remembered her mistakes. Every one of them. 'I should've done something, but I was stupid. I'm stupid. I'm sorry.' She understood that meant nothing. One mistake, two, seven, a hundred, a thousand… what now? Naming one by one changed nothing. If only it were possible._

"Hey, Midoriya?"

"Hmm?"

"Wanna try the swing?"

"The swing?" He followed her to the yellow and black stripped swing set and sat on one, letting his hand glide down the chain. "It's been a while. My mom used to push me in one of these." He smiled at the mention of his mother. "She'd get all worried when I'd go too high."

Ochaco sat in the one next to him. "That's so cute!" She admitted. "I used to activate my Quirk on myself by accident on these and my dad would hurry to catch me. That happened too often."

They both chuckled.

In the grassy background, a thin lizard minded its own business, flexing that loose patch of scaly skin under its neck with every heartbeat. It slithered between green fingers of the earth for shade. It was peculiar, how the world around them moved along when all they had was one problem setting them back.

"Hey."

She hummed to him an answer, swaying gently back and forth.

"Ever think other timelines exist?"

"Other… timelines…?" she asked curiously, tilting her head back and straightening her body to hang off the swing seat freely, her hair dangled behind her as she looked up at the spider's web at the top of the swing set.

"Yeah… Sorry – lately, I got caught up reading on multiverse and such… It's a dumb question, I know. It just makes me feel better if I think there's another me out there, you know? Maybe he has a Quirk. A good one, fit for a Hero. Maybe he has so many friends. Maybe he's planning to be the next number One Hero. Or…" He pulled on the chains and leaned back as well with a bittersweet smile she didn't know how to feel about. "Maybe I just like to dream and it's all in my head."

Ochaco sat upright. " _This_ Midoriya's special, too."

"This Midoriya's Quirkless." He wanted to see if she'd leave him, she guessed. "This Midoriya can't…" He choked out, his fists squeezing the fabric of his pants. "I'm sorry. You can leave if you want to."

"It's fine, I wanna stay. Midoriya, what those kids said – and wrote in your notebook… that was very mean of them. None of it was okay… I'm… umm… not sure what to do, but if you need to, you can talk to me, okay?"

"…Thank you."

 _She hadn't known what to do at the time. Thinking back, she could've said so much more. Maybe her 'other self' had done just that – that 'her' from that thing with timelines he'd talked about._

"I know things have been bad before, but there are ways to make it better!" She surprised him by suddenly standing up. "Quirk or no Quirk, it'll be so much better." She grabbed one of the chains of his swing set. "We'll think of something! So let's work it out together!"

He looked perplexed, surprised, almost doubting her words – her existence – was real. The glint in his eyes pooled and overflowed, yet, his face didn't scrunch up as he cried.

Ochaco felt a spike of silent panic. "I didn't mean to make you cry," she apologized anxiously, fisting the front of her uniform.

"It's fine – it's just," he whispered and managed a tiny, weak laugh. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm crying… but what you said made me really happy."

Above the carpet of grass, a cluster of butterflies swiveled erratically, one eventually making its way down. Upon touching the grass and staying still for a few minutes, it was quickly snatched by the lizard hiding in the shade. The butterfly's wings stuck out the reptile's mouth. With its prize, the lizard slithered back under the miniature forest to take its time swallowing its big catch.

…

Kids started littering his desk with profanities. It was a fun game to them, something of so little matter, they wouldn't even remember doing it later that day when it would be time to have dinner with the family or watch silly videos online or play video games. _"Midoriya, please don't draw on the desk. It's school property."_ – That one teacher had ordered. Due to embarrassment, Izuku had ducked his head and his explanation of _'It wasn't…'_ had been whispered; not loud enough for the teacher to hear.

It was disheartening to see her friend wiping his desk, cleaning the mess someone else threw at him. After finding more on a later day, she tried to arrive early to try and clean his desk before he'd see it. It was until she came to school one day and saw things _carved_ into it that she admitted to thinking of switching his desk with hers.

"You don't have to do that," he told her from the doorway, holding the straps of his yellow backpack.

Caught grabbing his desk, she hadn't planned any excuses and ended up a babbling mess trying to explain herself. He, however; knew more than he let on, and didn't misinterpret the situation.

"You don't have to fix things for me. It's okay."

"I… but… it's just…"

"I know. And it makes very happy to know you care." He gave her a genuine wide smile. "You don't have to do things for me."

"I want to. Do you know who's doing this?"

"No… but… it's okay! It doesn't bother me."

"You still have to tell someone. You can try, at least? I know your old school didn't listen, but maybe this one will!"

His 'stay silent' method' worried her. What else was going on around him that she was unaware of? She wondered if, perhaps, she'd need to inform their in his place. Was that the proper response? Would he trust her after this? She hoped it would make a difference.

…

She hadn't given out Izuku's name, and the teacher hadn't pressed her for answers. After speaking with him, she was immediately filled with doubts. He hadn't seemed the least bit interested. In fact, he'd looked almost bored listening to her. _Please, help him!_ She bounced her foot anxiously through class, clicking her pencil and pushing the tip back in.

She eventually saw a result – a hardly noticeable result.

The teacher had a brief talk on bullying that lasted a few seconds before starting class, and that was it. It was _something_ , she told herself. It was also slightly underwhelming. What _was_ she hoping for? For everyone to read her mind and magically become nice and friendly?

She guessed it hadn't solved the problem. Not only had she gone behind her friend's back, but it didn't seem like it had done much…

A few days later, three classmates were called out of class: X-ray eyes and two boys. Later, a few students were instructed to move in Izuku's new desk. Turned out, he had updated his mother of school happenings a few days after that lecture on bullying.

"Mom was so emotional, I was afraid she was going to cry." Izuku hugged his backpack that rested on his lap while he gently rocked back and forth on the swing. "I think… she was glad I told her."

"I'm glad you did, too!" Ochaco said brightly on the swing beside his.

"I didn't think they'd do anything; but then, after what Teacher said that day… I thought… maybe… it wouldn't hurt to… try? That and…" He hugged the backpack tighter against his face. _"Thank you."_

Ochaco tilted her head and leaned in closer. "For what?"

His answer was muffled by his backpack. "For… that… You know... Teacher only talked about it after we talked about it so, I kind of figured…"

Ochaco blinked a few times, her mind puzzling the missing information together. "Oh!" He knew. He knew she'd told. "I'm so sorry I did it behind your back! Are you… are you mad at me?"

"No, no. Not at all," he assured her, finally pulling his face away from his bag. Oh. He had a slight blush. "It's fine. I, uh… wanted to ask something? How do I…? Are there – aside from Thirteen, are there other Heroes you like? I know it's sort of out of the blue – it'll make sense later?" He was being very secretive about this… whatever. Even when she told him her favorites, he wasn't letting her know _why_ he needed to know.

Aside from that, he was mostly either taking notes in class, or walking with her. There hadn't been any scribbles on his desk; not that she was aware of, at least.

Then, her friend failed to show up to class one day. An illness, she assumed, and texted him a _get well soon_ as well as info of their assigned homework. Her later walk to the usual playground was a lonely one. She was never one to look into little details.

 _Separation from him forced her to examine everything; from the sound of one pair of footsteps to how different her shadow looked by itself. It was strange, how she saw beauty in nothingness when she had nothing._

A few spits of rain alerted her. She was already at the playground, and took shelter beneath the beam at the top of swing set. Sitting on one of the swings, she heard her phone _ping_ and excitedly checked to see an answer from Izuku.

 _-Thank you_

Smiling with relief, she texted back, asking if he needed to copy the material he'd missed; however, the second she pressed _send_ and herd the familiar _boop_ of the message being sent, she heard an obnoxiously quick buzz from a distance – from inside the Thirteen playhouse. For a few seconds, she waited, thinking it could've been anything. She then heard weight being shifted inside the playhouse. Tucking away her phone, she ran for the playhouse with the bag over her head as cover. Rainwater trickled down the fake Hero in strings.

She hung her bag off one arm to climbed up the ladder – doing her bed to ignore how wet she was getting – and was met with a blocked path.

Something wasn't right. The entrance was sealed from the inside with… cardboard?

Ochaco dropped down with a slap of her shoes hitting moist ground. She went around and placed her bag inside the end of the tunnel, keeping it away from rain, before going back around.

"Hello?" She knocked on the side of the playhouse. "Is anyone home?" She heard rattling papers inside. Yes, someone was home.

Floating herself, she climbed up the slippery structure, reaching the top, where the shimmering dome was. She wiped at the wet glass with her had. With how wobbly and obscured and purplish he looked through the glass, she still found it easy to determine it was indeed him looking up at her in wonder. It looked like he was in the middle of shoving things into his bag.

He leaned over and removed the wall he'd placed at the entrance.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd still be here." He retreated back in.

"What are you doing in there? And what's with the cardboard?" Ochaco climbed up the steps and casually tried to fit into the playhouse, unaware of Izuku's rising inner panic.

"… Uh…I – uh… just wanted… a door…? Do you – do you… need me to get out?"

Ochaco looked offended. "What? No! Why, silly? Here, we can sit here together like this, see?"

They were pressed shoulder to shoulder, knees drawn in. Izuku's bag was over both of their laps like an awkward, heavy blanket. Rainwater over the dome casted a shadow of slithering snakes over them as water dribbled down the sides. Everything about this was uncomfortable. Except, maybe the inside of this damp shelter turned out better than the madness of the outside world.

"What was that thing I heard?" she asked quietly.

"Thing…? Oh… my phone vibrated."

She giggled. "Gave away your hiding spot, huh?"

He chuckled lightly. "Yeah."

"You didn't come to school today," she reminded him, staring up at the watery dome.

"I'm sorry. I did feel well this morning."

…

"Can you promise me something, before I go?" he asked her after the rain stopped and they planned to part ways.

"Sure! What is it?" she asked happily, ready for anything he had.

He dug out a notebook from his bag – a different kind. This one was new, pink with a magnetic clasp. He held it out to her with shaky arms. "Can you promise to only open it when you get home?"

Read at home, only. Okay. She could do that. "Sure!" She took it, and his hand… lingered in the air, as if he longed to reach out to her physically.

 _She wished she had. She wished she hugged him right there._

"Okay… Thank you, Uraraka." He walked backward, keeping his sad eyes on her while smiling tiredly. She should've said something.

 _Should've_

 _But hadn't_

"I'll see you." He turned and stared walking, faster – a few steps, running.

…

It was a normal Hero Analysis notebook. Well, she couldn't call it normal. He'd made it for her, featuring the Heroes she adored the most. This was crafted especially for her, and she couldn't help but feel lucky. How much word had he put into this? She continued flipping through pages, stopping when she saw the flat flowers he must've picked from around the playground. She didn't understand why those were purposely placed there when the rest of the papers had writing and doodles. At the back of the very last page – at the bottom corner, read:

 _I had so much fun with you. Please, keep having fun, okay?_ _You made me very happy. Please, be happy._

…

She was never one to gaze at pictures, yet, Ochaco found herself interested in that flowered vase that adored her friend's desk at school.

He never came back to school. His shoes and backpack were found by a bridge overlooking a river.

She had so many silent questions; the most important one being: why?

It was frustrating, knowing she used to walk from school with that boy – that boy from her memory – and she lost him so easily. She still recalled every moment, every second of him, and those images felt alive. She still had his texts, his notebook, things he'd left behind. Even the path she took to get to the playground felt like trespassing now.

Climbing into the playhouse, she sighed and hugged herself, rubbing her arms up and down. The dome above obscured the lighter color of the sky. Be happy. Huh. Happy. Was he really? She'd love to ask him, but knowing Izuku, he'd tell her he was when he wasn't. Strangely, he didn't feel gone. It felt like he'd been simply relocated.

Maybe it wasn't bad to think like that.

…

She was never one to gaze at pictures, but even she had to admit, those pictures of Hawaiian landscapes her parents sent her were gorgeous. Her father always looked silly in those Hawaiian shirts for some reason. It was nice to see her parents finally relaxing and having fun. It took her years, hard work and living in tiny apartments before she could let loose and have what she wanted.

Sure, she wasn't with her parents in the US, but her slightly bigger apartment was nice. It was nice to afford things. She found out – after a few years of getting used to buying things – she was a bit of a slob. Her Hero costume was almost always messily splayed out somewhere or covering a chair. Her clothes – after coming come – would be on the floor of the cupboard. She had too many extra blankets, none of which she got to store away because there was no more room. Plastic bags were stuffed into other plastic bags and stashed away for later use.

From her nightstand, she grabbed a notebook green and opened an empty page. She was still tired from the villain she had to stop earlier. She couldn't analyze Quirks like Izuku; however, she could simply recall how they fought, writing everything down like a dairy or a letter to him. Closing the book, she happily tucked it next to the one that had been gifted to her years ago.

She never forgot about her friend. She'd write in that green notebook as if she were addressing him – a letter that would never be sent anywhere.

" _Ever think other timelines exist?"_ – He'd asked before.

Maybe he was doing great in one of those? Maybe he got to grow up and get taller and buy longer clothes and manage to grow stubble? Maybe he was her next door neighbor, and she'd heard his keys and doors and shower and TV through the thin walls. _"Ever think other timelines exist?"_ She liked to think so.

…

She very much liked to think so, because it meant there were many chances for two kids to be so happy. There was a chance two people managed to stay together through thick and thin. There was a chance, they'd both recall that playground they both called a sanctuary at some point.

On the operating table with bloody tubes sticking out of the hole in her stomach, Ochaco admitted, she liked pictures. Pictures like memories and thoughts and collected things – pictures like voices that made her recall things and things that made her hear voices. She breathed into the hospital mask as ghostly hands began to cut away at her tattered costume.

Back at her apartment, on the bookshelf, the green notebook was pressed against the pink one. On the last page of the newer one, written in bright colors, it read:

 _I had fun, too! I'll be as happy as I can! Let's be happy together next time, okay?_

* * *

 _Notes:_ _Well, that happened. Got stressed and needed an outlet. I... have gone overboard. Let's hope no one was expecting happiness here. I add those warnings for a reason._

 _-I'm alive (yay.) Here's a fic no one asked for (boo). For those asking about 'Where Golden Flowers Bloom', I'm working on it but I will not be posting any chapters until I have most (or all) of the story written out. Just wanted that to be out there. I thank you for your_ _patience._

 _-There so much ambiguity here, so don't ask me questions, because, trust me, I most likely don't know the answers either._

 _-I know, not everyone likes this kind of stuff. This was written for myself._

 _-I discovered a few playground areas, but I hardly ever saw kids around. It gave off this feeling of abandonment._

 _-The butterfly that got eaten by the lizard is the same one that landed on Izuku's backpack before._

 _-Some of the italicized lines in Ochaco's perspective are her thoughts while she's in the hospital. Most of the story is her recalling everything that's happened over the years._


End file.
